James Andrus - The Perfect Scream

Patty gave him a look to make sure he didn’t go too far with his promises.

Stallings acknowledged her look with a subtle nod, then faced Bobby again, focusing on the boy. “I will not let anything happen to you. Just tell us the truth. You know more than you’re letting on.”

Patty watched as Bobby’s eyes came up to meet Stallings. He started to say something, then stopped. Patty hadn’t seen someone in this much turmoil since they had caught a pedophile who had to face what he had done and admit it to the detectives.

Stallings said, “Come on, Bobby. It’s not like you killed somebody.”

With that Bobby lost all color in his face, looked panicked, turned his head, and vomited onto the linoleum floor in the back of the J Tavern.

Lynn sat in her car, huddling against the cold, waiting for her engine to run long enough to warm up and work the heater. As she sat there, an Impala rolled into the lot and into the first spot that was open near the front door of the J Tavern.

A tall man with a blue Windbreaker stepped out of the car and she immediately recognized him. He had been at Kyle Lee’s house in Orlando. She’d seen him in St. Augustine too. He had to be a police detective and that meant her time was up. She knew they couldn’t point to her as a killer because the police would’ve come to visit. But they had figured out the deaths of the fraternity brothers were connected.

The only link that could hurt her was Alan Cole in Daytona. He had seen her behind the wheel of the big blue Suburban. If he was improving like the nurse said, Lynn would have to deal with him. She might also have to put off finishing her mission until Bobby Hollis was no longer on guard and the police less interested in the case.

She put the car into gear, knowing she couldn’t be seen waiting here.

Stallings had quickly taken some paper towels off the roll on their table and thrown them over the vomit on the floor. Bobby Hollis’s quick motion and fluid puking action-no doubt developed over many nights drinking hard-had not attracted any attention in the bar.

Bobby wiped his face with another paper towel, then his eyes, and looked back up at Stallings and Patty.

Stallings said, “I hope you realize you’re not the best at keeping secrets. If we were playing poker I’d say you just gave away your hand.”

Bobby nodded slowly.

Patty placed a hand on his arm and said, “Tell us what’s going on, Bobby. You’re not under arrest and you’re free to go if you really need to.”

Stallings appreciated how subtly his partner laid down a statement that could be used in court later. From watching TV, people thought the police have to read Miranda warnings to everyone they spoke to. In fact, the circumstances under which the Miranda rights were given were very narrow. A suspect had to be in custody or imminent custody. Once Patty told him he was not under arrest and was free to go, anything he said from here on out would be legally admissible in court. Stallings wasn’t always good with the subtleties of building a case, but he admired a detective who could stick to the rules without inhibiting a witness.

Bobby cleared his throat and said, “It was really between Zach Halston and Josh Hickam.”

“What was?”

“It was sort of a feud. They both had their own sources for pot. But Zach considered himself some kind of a kingpin. He used to joke that he was the Tony Montana of Jacksonville. He and Josh went back and forth about who had the right to sell pot to different groups. Josh was quiet and really didn’t argue the fact with Zach.”

Stallings wanted to hurry the story along. This is what he had been waiting for. But he kept silent, knowing Patty was better at coaxing reluctant witnesses.

Patty said, “So what happened between Josh and Zach?”

Bobby swallowed again, took another sip of beer, and said, “It just went back and forth. A bunch of the guys worked for Zach. It was like a pyramid scheme. No one sold much, but it ended up being a lot of money for Zach.” He paused and took another gulp of beer. “We didn’t mean for it to go so far.”

“For what to go so far?

“It started at the Halloween party. Josh drank way too much. He mixed beer with rum punch and shots of tequila.”

The long silences between each fragment of information were driving Stallings crazy. He waited for Patty to nudge the boy along.

Bobby said, “So once it got rolling, Zach had us all keep feeding drinks to Josh. He had some stupid idea about putting him behind the wheel of the car and letting him get arrested for DUI on campus and thrown out of school. Some kind of crazy plan like that. Zach thought it would keep them from poaching the same customers.” Bobby just stared straight ahead for a few moments, then started to cry. He pulled off another paper towel and blew his nose.

“It just got out of hand and, in the early morning hours, when a couple of us went to put Josh into a car, he felt like a sack of potatoes. It took us a few minutes to realize how cold his body felt. Then we realized he was dead.”

Patty Levine could hardly believe the incredible story Bobby Hollis had laid out before them. Although the fraternity brothers had intentionally pumped Josh Hickam full of alcohol, he could see it was an accidental death. But that meant that Josh Hickam was not a victim of the conspiracy to kill members of the Tau Upsilon fraternity.

Bobby Hollis had regained his composure and said, “Zach stayed real calm and told each of us what to do. We put Josh in his car and parked it in one of the rear lots of the university so no one would find him until the next day. Then he told us how we could all be charged with murder. Basically it scared us all into silence.”

Patty said, “Who was involved from the fraternity?”

“There were a whole bunch of us. Some of the guys were from other chapters but had all worked with Zach distributing the pot. The guys from Gainesville depended on him as part of their income.”

“Do you know if anyone ever talked about this?”

Bobby shook his head. “I know no one ever talked to the police. I doubt they ever said anything to anyone else either.”

“But you can see that someone has been killing your fraternity brothers.”

“I can now.”

At least Patty didn’t think they were chasing shadows anymore.

It wasn’t even eight in the morning and John Stallings felt like he was accomplishing something. He should have been exhausted but spent the night ensuring Bobby Hollis packed a few things and went to visit his aunt in Kentucky. Stallings hadn’t allowed the boy to speak to any friends or fraternity brothers. After Patty and he had shown the terrified fraternity member what had really been happening, he was able to say that there were no obvious victims left in the fraternity house. Some had graduated and moved away, and, of course, several were dead. They had briefed Sergeant Zuni and Lieutenant Hester so they could make the best decision about how to inform the fraternity. In the meantime, a JSO patrolman had been assigned to sit at the fraternity house. If that didn’t send a message, nothing would.

Stallings walked into the seedy International House of Pancakes off J. Turner Butler Boulevard and smiled. The lean, weary-looking man in the booth did not seem to be in such a good humor.

Stallings said, “I appreciate you meeting me.”

“We do things on a slightly different schedule at the DEA.” Ed Wiley took another sip of coffee, then wiped his face with his hand. “I don’t mind getting up early, but gathering all of this information in one evening kinda wore me out.” He slid a manila envelope with Stallings’s name written in Magic Marker across the front. “You swear you’ll only use this information on your homicide case?”